


Prowler

by Silver_Centurion



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampires, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vampre!AU, vampire!prowl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Centurion/pseuds/Silver_Centurion
Summary: A little known detail about the area of Praxis is that most of their citizens are natural energon feeders. They require the energon of other mechs in order to survive. Obviously with the arc stranding Prowl and his fellow praxians on earth, it makes getting a regular feeding nearly impossible.Good thing Prowl has Jazz to get him through his feeding cycle.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Prowler

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission on tumblr! The premise was that the human holiday of Halloween happens to coinside with the praxian feeding cycle, and while Prowl has been feeding off Jazz for a while it evolved into the mech wanting more from out cute musician.
> 
> It was such a fun idea and premise that I couldn't help but take it! I do hope you enjoy the fic and the small world building liberties I decided to take to build up the scene :)
> 
> This work has not been betaed and minor editing may be needed. Please feel free to point out errors or discrepancies in the comments!

Festivities were never Prowls strong suit. Serious and pessimistic in nature, he didn’t really fit in with the idea of celebration. He was thankful his comrades were willing to include him anyway.

It was the earthly holiday known as Halloween. A festive event practiced in many regions of the world that pertained to the distribution of sweets, and dressing up as fictional characters or ‘spooky monsters’ as Spike put in, in honor of an old tradition that warded off evil.

It was all utter nonsense in Prowls opinion but he had to admit there was a charm to it. Watching the humans enjoy themselves was always a pleasure, and their simple celebrations were genuine enough to peak Prowls interests. Especially the sheer irony involved with the holiday and the supposed creatures involved.

Spike had given them a run down of basic human folklore in an effort to educate his new alien friends. Werewolves, mummies, ghosts, fairies, and vampires were among the educational lecture. It was the latter that made Prowl want to laugh aloud in the common room. Cybertron had similar folklore. Beings that gained nourishment from the fuel of other mechs, and even in the more extreme legends there were beings who fed on the very sparks of other cybertronians. It was pure nightmare fuel (pun intended) for every being that grew up under the idea that they could become some monsters lunch.

As Prowl sipped the bland energon that had been provided for their joint cybertronian/human Halloween party, he couldn’t help another smirk. Both Jazz and Ratchet had turned to eye him for a reaction as Spike had told them the legends of vampires. It was as funny now as it was then. They knew what he was. They knew this energon did nothing for him without the minerals and compounds that infused within the fuel after it was sent through living metal. By the looks on their faces he could tell that they felt the irony too.

Even small organic plants could be so strikingly similar to their own.

“Enjoying the party? I know parties aren’t really your thing.” came a small voice from somewhere by his feet. Prowl offered a small, rare, smile to his human friend.

“Yes Spike. I think you and Bumblebee did a fine job with it,” he replied, enjoying the way the young humans face lit up at the praise.

“I’m glad! It was fun making decorations that would suit your sizes.”

The decorations were actually kind of impressive considering there were ‘cob webs’ and various other decorations that were bigger than the human himself. Prowl was genuinely proud. And he smirked as the human ran off to probably go find Bumblebee.

As Prowl leaned back against the wall he resumed sipping his energon but it did little to quell the burning in his intakes. His instincts were demanding him to feed and they have been for several cybertronian days now, but Prowl had been prompt ignoring it. He could easily control his hunger at his age, and though it was a nuisance he was willing to bare it.

The other young praxians on the ship, however, had a harder time keeping their fangs out of their comrades. Prowl had seen Bluestreak leading the twins away not long after the party started. Blue was quite lucky that he had two willing donors during the feeding cycle. He didn’t have to lie or erase the memories of their feedings afterwards. Poor Smokescreen wasn’t so lucky and still relied on hypnotism and sneaky tactics in order to get a drink. Prowl could still see the young praxian scanning the area for a snack to tie him over.

Smokey was such a glutton.

Loud laughter caught his attention and his eyes landed on Jazz. The life of the party as usual, Jazz was socializing and laughing like they weren’t in a war. Like they weren’t the last of their species. Prowl always had envied Jazz’s beautiful spark in the respect. That’s probably what had started his infatuation with the smaller mech. His wonderful curves certainly helped as well.

That hunger Prowl had kept so perfectly in check all these days sudden roared to the front of his processor. His mouth ached and his tanks churned as the idea of Jazz in his arms again.

Jazz had been kind enough to let Prowl feed on him many vorns ago while Prowl had been at his most desperate. Prowl could never forget the trust Jazz had given him that night, and Prowl had done his absolute best to never break that trust since

Their optics met and Prowl had to resist the growl that threatened to escape his vocalizer. Perhaps he had made a face, because Jazz’s expression suddenly became pinched as he excused himself from his conversation and began to approach him.

Tiny cracking alerted him to how tightly he was suddenly holding his energon cube as Jazz approached.

“Hey Prowler. You okay baby?”

Jazz called everyone baby. It was an endearing trait. It still didn’t stop the hunger from worsening though.

“Yes,” he said tensely.

“Mm hmm,” Jazz hummed and took a quick look around before stepping in closer. Prowl could smell the heady scent of him this close. Clean metal and the fresh smell of earthly plants.

“I don’t think I believe you Prowler,” Jazz murmured. “You usually have a pretty tight hold of yourself. Is it feeding time again already?”

Prowl huffed a laugh though regretted it because it pulled more of Jazz’s lovely scent into his sensors.

“Already? Jazz your perception of time is terrible. The last I fed was when we were still on cybertron.”

Jazz managed to look indifferent and sheepish at the same time.

“Ah well…alot has gone on since then. I can’t be expected to remember _everything_.”

Jazz’s look turned more serious as he stepped closer still.

“You uh….need a pick-me-up?”

Again with that unending kindness. Prowl could hear the hesitation in Jazz’s spark, he could smell the anxiety coming naturally off of him just by being near an apex predator and yet here he was still within arms reach of a hungry praxian with little outward fear. Prowl could rip him apart in an instant and the sheer trust that he won’t just made him _ache._

“I….would like that very much Jazz,” he said and abandoned his barely touched energon on a nearby table.

Without another word, Jazz gestured for him to follow and began wading through the other party goers. Prowls age and experience made him a master of his own instincts, but tonight it seemed that his inhibitions have left him. He couldn’t tear his optics away from the slow sway of Jazz’s hips as the smaller mech led him away from the noise and into a mostly unused storage room. There was very little to store these days so rooms like this were plentiful.

“This good?” Jazz asked, turning to Prowl with a hand on his own cocked hip.

Prowl resisted the feral response that elicited in him.

“Yes Jazz it’s…it’s perfect,” he said as he approached the young musician.

They’ve done this before. Many times actually, but this time it was different. Prowl wasn’t used to the raw emotions he was feeling, and perhaps it was simply because it had been so long since he’s held some mech in his arms without threats of violence that made him take Jazz with a gentle touch.

He wrapped his arms around that slender waist and felt the tension both rise and fall in Jazz as he looped his arms around Prowl as well and offered the thick, life giving, cables that ran along the length of his neck.

Another pang of hunger, far more powerful than the first made Prowl dizzy. A growl he couldn’t contain erupted from his throat, but he refused to simply attack Jazz. He had a plan forming in his processor and he wanted to still convey it to Jazz while he was still in the right mind to do so.

So instead of sinking in his elongating fangs into those delicious cables, Prowl placed a heated kiss there instead.

Below him Jazz’s venting hitched, and Prowl could feel his deft fingers tighten on Prowls shoulders.

“P-Prowl?”

Instead of answering Prowl simply dragged his glossa up the length of the throbbing cable and placed another hungry kiss at the soft place where Jazz’s neck met his jaw.

The effect was rather instant. Jazz shivered under his attentions and a barely audible gasp went straight to Prowls array.

“Jazz I would like to admit something to you,” he rumbled as he backed Jazz up until the poor mech was crowded against a wall and a very hungry praxian. The mech tensed but made no move to try to free himself.

“Y-Yeah baby? What is it?”

Prowls optics flared brightly as he pressed his body firmly against Jazzs’, slotting his knee between the smaller mechs legs.

“I…feel so much for you. Your kindness, your…trust it does things to me. You have allowed me to feed off of you all these cycles and have asked so little in return I…let me give you something for your efforts.”

Jazz gasped loudly as Prowl canted his knee up to press against the underside of Jazzs’ interface panel.

“I’ve smelt arousal on you after our feedings sometimes, Jazz,” Prowl watched with delight at the color that flooded the musicians cheeks. “I said nothing in order to preserve out friendship but tonight…tonight you look so beautiful. I want to take every part of you if you’d allow me.”

Prowl was no poet, but by the look on Jazz’s face he may as well have been Shakespeare.

“Slaggit I….wow I wasn’t expecting _that_ tonight.”

Prowl stamped down his hunger enough to pull away and give Jazz a pitying look.

“I know it’s sudden but…I want us to be more. This act alone is already so intimate for my kind. You know that as well, and I just…I wish to take care of you.”

More softly than before he planed another kiss on Jazz’s neck, hoping his feelings would come off as genuine. His body may currently be flooded with hunger and instincts that are driving him forward but this was real, and he so desperately wanted Jazz to understand that.

Another sharp press from his knee to his array made Jazz tilt his helm back and give a low groan.

“Slaggit….already baby come’ere,” Jazz growled and grabbed a rough hold of Prowls face to pull him in for a hungry kiss.

Fire flew through his cables as their glossa met and Prowl returned the kiss with renewed vigor. It was both what he had always wanted and hadn't expected. Prowl had no idea how Jazz would be as a lover, though part of him had always suspected that he was thorough. That at least had been right, but he hadn't expected the hunger to come from the rather reserved musician. It was as if he was locking lips with another praxian and that was _beyond satisfying_.

Their glossa mashed, and their servos began grabbing and pulling in a desperate bid to become closer. The rather small room was quickly becoming stuffy with their combined heat and it became even worse when Jazz began to buck his hips down onto Prowls thigh.

Perhaps he should have felt ashamed by how quickly he opened his own paneling, but when Jazz popped his open as well he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Hiking Jazz further up on the wall, Prowl spread the mechs legs to better wrap around his hips and Jazz responded in turn by locking his ankles behind Prowls thighs.

Prowls spike extended and he couldn’t resist dragging the underside up against Jazz’s exposed valve. The mech was lubricated and eager, and just that realization was enough to make Prowls fangs elongate in desperate anticipation.

“C-Come on baby,” Jazz panted as they separated from their kiss, “I want it to.”

Prowl groaned and gripped Jazz’s thighs tightly. They probably should discuss the terms of this new relationship before they fragged, but as he lined himself up and felt Jazz’s valve quiver he decided that could wait.

There was _far_ more pressing matters.

It was a tight fit as Prowl pushed inside. Jazz’s narrow hips for a wonderfully tight grip and Prowl felt nothing but burning bliss. Despite the tight fit Jazz seemed eager for it, and arched so prettily against the wall that Prowl couldn’t help but latch his lips back onto those tempting cables.

As their hips pressed flush against each other, Prowl was close to losing what little composure he had left. It was so hot and tight he felt like if Jazz clenched too hard it would prevent movement altogether. But this was obviously not the first time Jazz had interfaced. He remained relaxed, and after a few moments of adjustment he rolled his hips down against Prowls spike that the poor praxian saw stars.

Prowl had meant for their first interface to be far more romantic, he realized as he began bucking helplessly into Jazz’s tight heat. Jazz was worth far more than a filthy frag in a random storage closet.

But as he started to thrust proper, Jazz clung to him so sweetly, crying out as Prowls spike hit good spots inside him and relishing in the friction of Prowls hips against his outer nodes. It was filthy, it was probably going to be very quick if their building charge was anything to go by, and as the slick sounds of their coupling reached his audials he suddenly no longer cared.

If Jazz still wanted him after his arousal had faded then Prowl would treat him to the most romantic evening he could muster.

“Frag! P-Prowl,” Jazz cried as Prowls superior strength came into play, bouncing him along with his brutal thrusts. He was bound to have marks left by Prowls strong fingers after this no doubt, and as he clung even tighter to Prowls back he hoped that Jazz’s fingers would mark him as well.

Jazz overloaded first. He arched off the wall, his optics flaring bright under his visor as he cried out. Charge arched off him in dazzling waves, and Prowl was transfixed by the display.

Ever the entertainer, even during interface.

Prowls hips sped up, bouncing Jazz with vigor as he chased his own release. But even as the charge reached it’s peak he couldn’t fall over the edge. The burning hunger in his throat was becoming too much to bear. His intakes felt rough and haggered as his body demanded energon. A willing body was just right there as he could feel his fangs resting on his own lips, elongated and ready to rip into Jazz’s metal.

“J-Jazz I…I need,” he wheezed, his vision going blurry with alerts his processor was too strung out to deal with.

But Jazz, bless his spark, must have had some processing power left after that powerful overload. His arms wrapped tightly around Prowls neck and after cradling Prowls helm gently in his servos he brought the praxians face right where Jazz’s pulse was the strongest.

“It’s okay baby. Come on,” Jazz cooed, soft desperate the still brutal pummeling his valve was receiving.

The permission was all his processor needed. The feeling of his fangs sinking into another mechs cables was always something to be relished, but this time as he sunk his fangs into Jazz’s throat he felt like this time it was different. This wasn’t just some poor mech he had wooed into a dark place. This was a mech he held very dearly and, if he hadn’t ruined his chances by now, was hopefully going to become his lover. That alone made his spark swell with an emotion that he couldn’t quite explain.

Though he was pretty sure it was love.

Hot energon flooded his mouth, laced with all of the nutrients his body needed and more. The high charge of interfacing did something to the bodys energon and made it that much sweeter, that much hotter. He moaned aloud as he swallowed a heady mouthful, all while his own charge finally cascaded into a violent overload.

His processor whited out for a few moments as he both drank his fill and emptied himself inside of Jazz’s valve. All the while he could feel Jazz’s gentle fingers stroking his helm. He was pretty sure Jazz was speaking, but it was too soft for him to make out over the sound of his own ragged venting.

As the energon settled in his tanks, the desperate hunger faded. He came back within himself and had the right mind to withdraw his fangs to prevent anymore damage to Jazz’s poor cables. He licked and suckled on the wounds as they lazily dripped with energon, all while their bodies dripped with various other fluids.

They were now both in a desperate need for a shower.

“Baby? Baby you with me?” Jazz asked so softly that Prowl thought that he had dreamed him speaking.

“Y-Yes? Yes I’m…I’m here,” he panted, still dizzy and high from the hot energon in his systems.

“Good. Thought I lost you there for a moment,” Jazz said. Prowl didn’t even have to look to know he was smiling.

“Sorry I…did I hurt you?” He asked, withdrawing his spike and tenderly settling Jazz down without aggravating the poor mechs no doubt sore body.

“No no….well maybe a little,” Jazz said with a laugh and a little wince. “But nothing I didn’t ask for.”

Prowl pulled away to look at the other mech. Practically glowing in the dim lighting, flushed and glistening with coolant.

His spark ached.

“I…I needed that,” he admitted, and started when Jazz threw his helm back and barked a laugh.

“Yeah no slag? You’ve needed to get your spike wet for centuries Prowler!”

Prowl felt heat come to his cheeks.

“No need for that,” he grumbled but couldn’t help but offer a smile of his own at Jazz’s continued laughter. He liked hearing him laugh.

“So baby…now that you’ve had some post-interface clarity did you really mean what you said? You…you really wanna do this?” Jazz murmured, placing his hands back on Prowls shoulders so that they remained close.

“Yes. Without a doubt in my processor, Jazz,” Prowl rumbled and gently held the other mech in his arms.

“Well then…that was one pit of a proposal,” Jazz teased and laid his cheek against Prowls chest. It felt very right.

“Yes I apologize for that…I can make it more romantic next time if you’d like?”

Jazz hummed, then looked up and offered Prowl one of his award winning smiles.

“Sure baby. Pull out all of the stops. I wanna see what a romantic Prowl looks like.”

They both shared a chuckle.

“I can even incorporate those terrible human customs you like so much.”

“Ooooo you better have candles Prowler! And some mood music!”

Prowl laid a soft kiss to one of Jazz’s horns.

“For you….I will get you anything.”


End file.
